


Freckles

by Stormchild



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormchild/pseuds/Stormchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean wakes up from a nightmare. Marco knows just how to make him feel better. The fondness Jean has for his freckles helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freckles

'No,' Jean thinks. 'Not him. How could this happen to him? Anyone but him…'

There’s blood everywhere. He’s frozen in place and he wants to throw up. He wants to reach out but he can’t. He can’t move. He can only stare. One dead eye stares blankly out. Bile rises in Jean’s throat.

Jean squeezes his eyes shut and jerks.

It’s dark. He can’t see, can’t hear anything past the blood rushing in his ears. There’s a pressure around his body and breath against the back of his neck and he thinks, ‘Oh God I’m going to be eaten.’ He holds as still as possible, breath coming out through his teeth in short gasps, eyes wide and terrified. 

Nothing happens. The teeth that Jean anticipates never clamp down. His eyes adjust and he sees Connie sleeping in the bunk over, an arm hanging over the edge. When his heart settles down a little, he can hear his snoring and he almost laughs in relief. 

There’s shifting against his back and Jean realizes that the pressure is Marco’s arm wrapped around his waist. His muscles are still tight, though. A hand moved over his stomach, lips pressing to the back of his head. Jean grabs the hand, holding tightly.

"Jean? Are you all right?"

Jean’s throat is too tight for him to respond. He’s shaking. Marco’s voice sets something off inside him and he realizes that his eyes are wet. He wriggles out of Marco’s hold just enough to turn over and face him.

Marco’s brow furrows. He cups Jean’s cheek with a hand and kisses his lips.

"Marco…"

"You’re safe," Marco says, a soft promise. "You’re okay."

And Jean stares because it’s not himself that he’s worried about. He’s worried about Marco, about that dead look that Jean will never be able to forget. He buries his face in Marco’s neck and lets out a choked sob.

"Oh, Jean… Jean…"

A hand strokes through Jean’s hair. The shaking stops but his muscles are all still so tight. His shoulders hurt and even his legs are starting to cramp up. 

"What can I do to make you feel better?"

Jean pulls back, just a little. Just enough to be able to count Marco’s freckles. He loves those freckles. Seeing those freckles is enough to make him sigh. He presses a kiss to a cheekbone.

Marco turns his head and meets Jean’s lips in a long kiss. He coaxes Jean’s mouth open to swipe his tongue along the roof. Teeth nip at a lower lip and Jean whines. Marco can’t help but smile. He loves it when Jean whines. It doesn’t take much to elicit sounds from him. 

"Ssh. You need to be quiet. You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?"

Jean bites his lip. His thumb traces over the freckles across Marco’s cheekbone. He leans forward and kisses the spot. Marco lets out a long breath. Jean shudders. A hand moves down the side of Marco’s neck.

"What do you need, Jean?"

There’s quiet rustling. They hold their breaths, trying to keep as still as possible. The sound doesn’t last long. Once the two are satisfied that no-one is awake, they exhale. Marco gives a breathy giggle. A hand runs through Jean’s hair. 

"Marco," Jean sighs, eyes closing. 

"I’m here."

Jean kisses him deeply. His hand moves up Marco’s shirt. Marco arches into the touch with a soft sigh.

"I just- I just need to feel you. Please, Marco."

"Of course. Anything you need, Jean."

There’s a grateful sound. Jean pushes Marco on to his back and climbed on top of him. His thumbs trace the cheekbones across Marco’s freckles. God, he loves these freckles. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t see the spread of spots across Marco’s face. He never wants to.

Jean doesn’t want to waste any more time. He pushes Marco’s shirt up. His mouth moves down Marco’s jaw and neck, skipping over the spot where the fabric is bunched up and continues on down the path of his sternum. 

Marco lets out breathy sighs, arching into each kiss. It’s been a while since they’ve done anything like this and fuck if Marco didn’t miss it. He loves the feeling of Jean’s tongue on his nipple. Teeth scrapped over the nub, lips working it to a tight peak. He has to be careful to keep from moaning.

They don’t have much time. Any minute now, someone could wake up and see them. Part of Jean couldn’t care less, but part of him really does care. His fingers tease Marco’s nipples while his mouth works over the growing bulge forming in the brunette’s briefs. Jean’s own erection is starting to fill out his sweatpants, but it doesn’t matter. Marco’s the only thing he’s interested in.

The briefs come down and Jean’s mouth follows. His cheek rubs against the freckles staining the inside of his thigh. He wishes it wasn’t so damn dark so he could really see them. He can feel Marco’s muscles twitching beneath his skin. It’s so hot, knowing that Marco is as into this as Jean is.

Jean looks up, silently begging for approval to continue. It’s too dark to see the blush covering the freckles he loves so much but he can make out the small nod. Marco’s hand threads through his hair, nudging his head up towards his cock.

Marco knows what Jean wants, what he needs. He knew from the start. But making Jean say it grounds him a little. The taste of Marco’s cock on his tongue grounds him even further. Sometimes, touch is the only way to bring Jean back to reality. Marco’s touch, specifically.

As Jean’s tongue laps at the head of his cock, Marco’s cock and he has to make a consious effort not to moan.

"Jean," he whispers, "Jean, you have to hurry up."

"Yeah… I know."

Jean wraps a hand around Marco’s cock. He strokes slowly, thumb pressed to the vein on the underside. His tongue follows the path of his hand for a few strokes before he wraps his lips back around Marco’s head and sucks and sucks and fucking sucks.

"Jean… Don’t stop…"

Flattening his tongue, Jean licks across the wet slit a few times. Marco’s hips buck up. Jean’s mouth moved down, hand sliding up to work the head while his tongue traced Marco’s balls. The muscles tightened, pulling them up closer to his body. 

Jean took as much of Marco’s cock in his mouth as he could without gagging. His fingers stroked at everything he couldn’t reach. He could feel Marco getting close. He glances up and sees Marco’s fist shoved into his mouth to muffle his moans.

Marco’s thighs are quivering, breath hitching in his throat. It’s too much. He can’t hold back, and he doesn’t want to. There’s no time to draw this out. A leg drapes itself over Jean’s shoulder while a hand fists itself in his hair.

Jean manages to open his throat, swallowing everything Marco has to offer. He swallows and laps up every drop. By the time his pulls off, Marco’s cock has gone soft. Jean tucks him back into his briefs and crawls back up to curl up against him.

"Feeling better?" Marco asks.

He runs a hand through Jean’s hair with a soft smile and kisses his lips. Jean’s body has finally relaxed. 

"Yeah. Yeah. I just… wanna’ go back to sleep. Can I… I don’t want to go back to my bed yet…"

"Go back to sleep, then. I’ll wake you up, don’t worry."

Jean’s face presses to Marco’s chest, eyes half-lidded. He lets out a hum that isn’t really an answer. He’s already half asleep, erection forgotten. Getting Marco off is satisfying enough.

By the time Marco’s pulled the sheets up over their shoulders, Jean is completely out. Marco smiles, giggling a little. His eyes slip shut. He doesn’t want to think about anything but now. Now, they have forever and that’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at mechanicalpoet.tumblr.com.


End file.
